Exploration
> Exploration OD'S messengers are coming! But up in the mountains, the spiritual night of centuries shows no evidence yet of a breaking dawn.
"What of thy darkness?" (Matt. 6:23, Knox). And before we go on to tell of the coming of the Light, let us first look at the spiritual darkness of these children of the hills. It is like that mountain dawn which I described to you at the beginning: 'All seemed but a sea of bumpy darkness."'
The tribes are all animists—worshippers of demons; worshipping directly, they do not use idols or images of any kind.
But their spiritual night is "bumpy." Just as in that predawn the mountain ridges before us loomed indefinitely out of the night, so the tribes vaguely apprehend a few outlines of things supernatural. The Lisu tribe have a word for God,
Wu-sa. He is a Supreme Being who is true and upon whose righteousness they call when quarrelling. "'Wu-sa jo! Wu-sa jo!" I have heard them cry, meaning, ''God is my witness, I speak the truth.' Maybe they are not speaking the truth.
But that cry seems the ultimate appeal in swearing to their guiltlessness. That they can reach Wu-sa, that He will help them when they cry, is not in their thoughts. It is all very vague—mere bumpy outlines in the darkness.
Closer to them, terrifyingly real but yet unsubstantial is the demon world. These demons "'bite"' you, if you do not worship and do sacrifice to them. The demons do not have all-knowledge—they can be fooled by man. Hence you find children with animal names or worse, such as '"'Cow-dung." A name like that is believed to trick the demons into not recognizing that the owner is really a human child. So they strive to outwit these evil powers.
But to them the demons are all-powerful. They know of no power greater, and release from this terrible bondage is one of the attractions of Christ. Their lives are dominated by this
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fear. Trees, rocks, everything, anything may be the haunt of a demon.
Another dimly perceived truth is that of blood atonement.
An offended demon may be placated only by the sacrifice of a life. "Without shedding of blood is no remission" needs no explanation to the tribes. They know it. That was one bump in their night which was well outlined to their vision.
Yet why a blood sacrifice is needed they cannot tell you. That the demons demand it is all they know. Fear, cruelty, and suffering rule their universe. "Now the earth had been waste and wild and darkness was on the face of the roaring deep," translates Rotherham. Do you think. it is far fetched to say that this is a true picture of the spiritual night of the tribes?
Just this morning a letter came to me from Lilian Hamer, one of our missionaries living among the Yao and Lisu tribes.
In the chronology of our story we are still very far from Summit Camps, but I want you to see the answer to that question,
"What of thy darkness?'' Listen as Miss Hamer tells her story:
Before dawn on Saturday morning I was suddenly aroused by the sound of gunfire, the loud reports shattering the silence of the sleeping village and echoing around the hills. I thought at first that perhaps a leopard had slunk into the village and someone was firing at it, so I did not feel disturbed, neither did I get up. Drunk at the time, a certain Lisu man in this village ten months ago had shot a man to death and had knifed the man's son, though not fatally. After ten months' hiding in the mountains he had come back, as he had two Lisu wives and several children in this village.
A Chinese Christian named Li-Cho had brought this murderer to my clinic, asking me to give him medicine and to let him listen to Gospel recordings. I did not like the look of the man, but he listened to the Gospel and came back a few times for that purpose.
Sometimes I saw him prowling around my little shack, trying to open my door when it was fastened. It did not occur to me that this man was the centre of the excitement and the gunshots that had awakened me.
Soon I heard the sound of running feet, the voices of men as ifin pursuit, and the barking of the dogs in the village. Someone ran past my house, and I heard a voice, trembling with fear or excitement, call out in Lisu, "'Is he still alive?"
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Another voice replied, 'Yes, he is!"'
I thought, calmly enough, that my two doors were locked and I was comparatively safe, whatever was happening. Several more shots cracked the still morning air, drowning the noise of barking dogs and shouting people. Then I wondered if the communists had come; if so, being a foreigner, I would be the first one they would want to see. So I dressed hastily.
A voice called at my back door. It was Khun-ba, the Lisu Christian headman, who handed me a blood-stained note, written in poor Chinese. Khun-ba explained that the relatives of the murdered man, with two Chinese and three Yao men, had stolen into the village and had captured the fugitive.
Armed with guns, the posse had surrounded the house of the murderer, who tried to escape but was wounded in the attempt.
His captors bound him hand and foot, and when he tried to resist them they kicked and beat him until blood poured from his head and arms. These gory details were told to me with relish by Lisu women neighbours later on.
The note was to say that justice was going to be done, and that these Lisu, Chinese, and Yao had come to see that the punishment was meted out. They apologized for the early morning disturbance. That day the murderer was beheaded by them.
Two Lisu were sent next day to the Nai amphur [magistrate] to tell the story, and to announce that the magistrate need not bother himself about finding the murderer, for the people themselves had captured him and administered the punishment. I did not hear the amphur's reply to this taking of the law into their own hands!
A later letter tells of the terror of the village and their almost wholesale flight to another place. Crime, fear, suffering.
It is their constant diet. Morally they are as degraded as one would expect.
As someone wrote of Genesis 1:2, ""The apparently useless and hopeless mass was not really so, because God was concerning Himself about its condition."
"The roaring deep"—but the Spirit of God was brooding over it. And He had called forth some of His army from faraway places. "The drumbeats of His army are the heartbeats of our love.' The little nurse who wrote about all the violence just recorded comes from England. Others come from America,
Switzerland, Australia, and New Zealand. God is concerning
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Himself about the condition of these tribespeople. But He needs more recruits for His army. He needs more young men for this work. And always more to pray. Nurse Hamer closes her sad little tale with these poignant words:
Oh, could I tell, ye surely would believe it!
Oh, could I only say what I have seen!
How should I tell, or how can ye receive it, How, till He bringeth you, where I have been?
They were originally used in a different connection, but they express her "throbs of deep desire"' for the black night which she has seen among the tribes of the mountains.
Orville and Hazel Carlson opened Base Camp, and there soon arrived Don Rulison, Otto Scheuzger, Adri Bloemdahl
(later Mrs. Scheuzger) and Nurse Edith Schlatter.
Mr. and Mrs. Paul (Hap) Holsinger, passing through Thailand on their way home from China, joined them for a while.
I do not know who made the first trip, nor who saw the first tribesman. I do know that both Miao and Lisu come down to Chiengmai market. In fact, just over the crown of picturesque Doi-Su-Thep was a Miao village!
All these O.M.F.ers spoke Chinese, while Orville also knew Lisu. The Miao understand some Mandarin, so they could be reached as far as a simple question, '"Where is your village?" is concerned. I do know that it was not long before Hap and Orville started out in search of the tribes, and we may listen to Hap's own account of it:
. In nearly two months we saw enough to fill a book!
Travelling on elephant paths, over opium routes, up mountain ridges, and through steaming jungle depths, we contacted tribes and villagers who had never before heard the glad
Good News. Through physical exhaustion, scorching heat, hunger, and thirst, we painfully crawled over mountain height and valley depth. As we trampled paths where tiger whelps had crept, I was reminded of the verse, ""How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace." (Later he wrote to his mother, "I never knew the beautiful feet could be so painful!) I was never more impressed with the significance of that statement than when I hobbled along on my blistered feet while overhead a passenger
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plane flew like a great cool, silver bird. In the midst of the Twentieth Century, the wonder age of history, with jet bombers travelling faster than the speed of sound, automobiles with undreamed-of speed and luxury, radio, television, and electronics creating strange new worlds of wonder and amazement—with all these, old-fashioned foot-work is still the unsurpassed method of taking the Gospel to the lost.
Now as you picture the scene, the night shadows are falling and the wild beasts come forth to seek their prey. A breeze blows, giving voice to the trees and bushes. Horses, cattle, pigs, and chickens are carefully locked in their enclosures to secure them from marauding denizens of the dark. Just another day of an unending chain of heathen monotony. Then a twig snaps, the village dogs leap, barking, and rush out in a snarling pack with fangs bared and hair erect; the bushes on the trail part, and into the clearing step two foreigners. We are weary from walking and carrying our own packs. We wonder if we shall spend a night in the brush, or has the angel of God gone on ahead to prepare a heart and a home for His weary, dirty messengers? Then doors open, voices are hushed, children awake, and curious eyes bore through us as we drop exhausted to the ground. In this Lisu village, miles from civilization, a foreigner has appeared who speaks their own language. In wonder, consternation, and amazement these wild mountain people look at each other. "Who are you, and what do you want in our village?" they ask.
''We are messengers from the one true God, the Creator of the great sky and earth. We have books in Lisu words that have
His message, and songs that sing of His love,' Mr. Carlson answers. If we had materialized out of the blue smoke of a bamboo fire like the genie at the rub of Aladdin's lamp, we could not have surprised these people any more than we did.
They look at each other, adjust their black turbans, motion the women back, call off the dogs, spit out the blood-red betel-nut juice, and awesomely repeat the words of announcement:
'The God of heaven and earth! Special words? Lisu books?
Impossible! Lisu books! We must see them. Come into my house. Come! Come! Come! Lisu books!'
And so entrance is obtained and supper is provided. But news has spread and others want to hear. The dogs bark again; the bamboo door opens slowly, and into the firelight step the men of the mountains—of fine physique, with dark, coppercoloured skin, black, flashing eyes, and broad shoulders. They
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have come to hear if the rumour is true that there are really Lisu books and songs, and will the great teacher sing and read these books of the God of Heaven? Then for the first time in all their tribal history, the songs of salvation break the stillness of the night. Hymn after hymn is sung, punctuated by sighs and exclamations. Phrases are repeated and commented upon. Then
Mr. Carlson closes the hymnal, opens the Catechism, and brings to them the Words of Life. '"This is the message that we bring: the message angels fain would sing."
The fire burns low, the figures slip silently out into the darkness; the moon comes up and tints the purple mountain and valley with liquid silver; the dogs bark ferociously as they drive off one of the big cats seeking some of the villagers' stock. Soon all is silent in the mountain village. In a few short hours...a bowl of rice, and we shall be on the mountain trails to another village.
But while the two weary white men were sleeping, in many a little shanty on that hill, Lisu were grouped around their fires talking. Is this message true? What will it cost to accept it? Can it be that there ts a Power greater than the demons' after all? How wonderful if it proves to be so, and that Wu-sa really loves them as much as the white man says! The young men of the group lean forward, the firelight gleaming on their bright eager eyes, as they urge their elders to accept the message. Eternal life? It is surely worth a try! But always, the older men, faces hard and seamed with sin, held back. ""There's a catch somewhere. Be careful. If you pull down demon altars, you know the vengeance the demons will take. If this story is true, why weren't we told of it before? Have you ever heard of a foreigner, Thai or Chinese, who came all this way to our high villages to love us? No, they all come to exploit us.
There must be a hidden motive. You young fellows are too inexperienced. What we do we must do together. Let us do nothing for a while; just watch." And so long into the night, the Light struggled with the Darkness. Everywhere it was the same.
The young responded exuberantly. It was their fathers that scowled and forbade them. But from mountain to mountain a thin edge of Light was piercing through the century-old black pall. Ignorance was breaking, and gallant youth was beginning to struggle with its chains. How we thank God for youth and its courage!
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Another team was working in another direction: Don Rulison (American), and Otto Scheuzger (Swiss), and his bride Adri (Dutch). They had been in China only two years and their knowledge of Chinese was bookish, perhaps. But they were studying Thai and picking it up in its local colloquial, and they found the tribes understood this better than their Chinese. Here is a quotation from their experiences:
On our last trip, Adri and I, accompanied by Don Rulison and two Lao carriers, visited several Lisu villages; we slept in one, and preached to a goodly number of Lisu men. We climbed high mountains, walked over hot roads where there is no water, and descended to the jungles where monkeys laughed at the weary travellers. We slept in dirty houses where we shared the bamboo mats with opium smokers. We waded through dirty water and through clear mountain streams; we fought a bloody battle with leeches and thorns and high grasses.
We slept under the open sky on the riverbank, with three fires giving us warmth and some protection. And we felt and saw much of that dark power which keeps this lovely, friendly Lisu and Yao people in bondage. Oh, how our hearts bleed and weep for this people! And yet how we rejoice in the fact that we are privileged to go and tell them of our wonderful Lord.
Adri and I do not know where we are going to start tribal work.
It will be a needy field anywhere, and a most difficult field as well. But for Jesus' sake . .
. well it is wonderful!
But other more experienced workers were beginning to arrive. I was to find out that I was not the only one whom Sir
Plaudio met and tempted to stay at home. When I heard the stories of some of the others I felt like the least in my
Father's house.
By the end of 1951, Allan and Evelyn Crane had arrived, beloved Ma-pa and Ma-ma (Lisu titles for missionaries) from Gospel Mountain Church in China. That meant that these two could also speak the Lahu tongue! For that one district of the Lisu church included also a Lahu church, and the missionaries had learned that second tribal language.
Evelyn and Allan were both proficient in Chinese, too, and, like all the rest of us, were eager to contact the Lisu and Lahu tribes of Thailand.
Arriving at Base Camp they were not long in making
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inquiry as to where tribes were to be seen. They learned that to the south of them was a market town named Bandak, and that tribesmen often went there. So, early in 1952, they took the morning train down the line six hours to Lampang, where they stayed overnight in a hotel (for there are several good ones in Lampang). Early the next morning they caught a bus south to that little place where the tribes come to buy rice and cloth.
Bandak is a typical Thai market: one long street, stretched out casually along the bank of a river. None of the houses appears to have front walls! Oh, yes, they have walls, but these houses are shops, and in the daytime the planks of the fronts are removed so that the passers-by can look in and be baited. Is it a shiny new cooking pot he wants? There they are stacked, and attractive enamel washbasins beside them.
A new bright skirt for the "her" ? There they hang, temptingly displayed so that the red or orange flowers or those gorgeous peacocks may strut right down into her vanity and give her no peace until she acquires it! But maybe you are hungry?
This is a food shop! Canned sardines (the Thai love fish) in all varieties, packed in olive oil, mustard, or tomato sauce.
Just walk in, sir! We have that for which your mouth waters.
Or maybe you are a tribesman from the hills wanting to buy a red blanket? Or a fascinating silver belt? Smiling clerks behind the counter will help you select—and see that you pay highly for it, too. Ignorance is not to be pitied; it is natural prey to the cheerful Thai shopkeeper. The climate isn't so enervating but what he can match his wits with yours! And Jack be nimble Jack be quick Jack think lively Or you'll be licked! may be your swan song!
But it is a very friendly atmosphere—on the surface. Evelyn and Allan felt at home, despite the heat, as they walked down this country Oriental street, in among the chicken, dogs, or pigs—or whoever decides that the middle of the ' street is just for him! For only one will they make way— the huge, ugly, honking truck-bus! It fills the narrow space
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so completely that unless you want to lie down and let it go over you, you make way. But it does not come often.
Allan and Evelyn were looking for an "'inn''! There isn't such. Allan, a quick linguist, tried out some of his new Thai on them. The word "'hotel'' comes in the first lesson in the primer! Smiling negatives were all he received. But if travellers want to stay ail night, where do they go? Why, to the temple, sir. Thai village life is built around the temple. Anyone can camp out there in one of the salas. And so Ma-pa and Ma-ma become part of the public life of this long-stretched-out little market place. For a week they camped in the sala, black eyes watching every move, from dawn until midnight. After a week they acquired a room beside a shop on the street, and were able to rent it for a month.
But it was not long before they received the one thrill for which they had come. Down the street one morning they perceived splashes of colour which looked familiar. Turbaned heads. Lisu! Let's go! Oh, the thrill of contacting a relative of your spiritual children! How little could the tribesmen guess the deep affection and yearning that is making this white man and woman's pulse beat so high! Will they understand the Salween dialect? Even there, in the Salween, we had four different kinds, and Bible translators had to find a common denominator.
"A li kwa je lo?" calls out Allan, and a Lisu whirls around and stares.
A white man asking him in Lisu where he is going.
But on the Thai market there are many wonders.
**Nhi cir jee jya. Mo-to-ka hwajya. Nu baja da ma seh?" "We're moving house. Want to hire a truck. Can you speak for us?'')
"Ba ja chir lo,' replies Allan, making quick mental note that the man had said jya where we say dya, and that he had not yet used the verb-final, lo.
Then followed fun. To be interpreters for a whole horde of strange heathen Lisu who wanted to charter a Thai truck!
Of course, the Lisu spoke some Thai trade language. They were moving as a group to some new village site and had their big black sooty iron pots and tripods, chickens, cats, dogs—everything but bullocks went piling into that bus!
It was a gold-mine contact, linguistically. Spiritually the Lisu minds were too anxious about the disposal of their
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earthly goods, and the price the bus driver wanted, to have any interest for a story about God. They did learn that this
Ma-pa and Ma-ma—they laughed a bit at those names, and preferred to call them uncle and auntie—had come to their country with an important message from Wu-sa. "Come and see us at our village!' they said. "We haven't time to listen now. Thank you, thank you." ""Ngwa nu jai dseh shya laa. Hameh na na ma meh. Bo-mo bo-mo."
After the truck pulled out, Allan and Evelyn probably compared linguistic finds. The Thai and Lisu do not use the Salween kwa for at, to, or sometimes in. At first they do not seem to use at, or to, at all! They infer it. They don't use the verb-final, Jo. They say bo-mo for thank you, and the Salween Lisu says sha-mo. Ha-meh was obviously our a-meh for now. And so on. Their expression for village is not Lisu at all, but the Chinese word for market. But was it not a thrill! And at least a glimmer of Light had been given. Sitting on top of their household piles, as they sped along, maybe they would become curious that Wu-sa had sent whiteskinned people with a message for them! And they would take this word to the new mountains where they were going.
Orville had made one trip in this vicinity—maybe they had met him or heard of him. Light was sown, anyway.
Now for plans for ascent! They had learned that there were Lisu villages about two days' journey from Bandak, and their general direction. They could hunt for Thai porters on the market there, for Thai sometimes went up to those villages. And after a time they found two men willing to carry for them. Dark, heathen faces they had, but they said they knew the way to the hills.
So the morning of departure came. They were going to a heathen village where they knew no one, so they might not risk a non-friendly reception. They had better take food, sleeping bags of course, a mosquito net, and a few medicines.
The weather was now very hot but the climb was gentle, gradual and lovely. Green jungle, golden sunlight, dark blue mountains, pale sky with flossy white clouds—Thailand is a beautiful country. "Only man is vile'—how often the missionary quotes that ruefully. Everything was so happy, except for these two evil-looking carriers. Every five minutes
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lay! they said they must stop to sit down and rest. The loads were the usual weight; native porters are accustomed to them, so why this need to sit ?
"Allan, we'll never make our destination tonight, at this rate!' said Evelyn decisively. ""And that one man especially looks like such a rascal. I don't like it."
They were on their first trip to help evangelize the tribes of Thailand. Do you think that Satan was not aware of what this invasion of his centuries-held domain would mean? He is never caught napping. And he had it all planned to end these two precious lives, right on this first journey. But someone at home was praying. Who was on prayer guard for the Cranes in March, 1952?
At length on the gradual ascent they came to a Lao village where the people were friendly and gave them coconuts to eat. Here the two porters took a new attitude.
"We can't go on unless you give us more money," they announced to Allan. And they thought they had the Cranes trapped.
> "Why Allan, if we give it, it will put a price on every stopping place!'' Evelyn said to her husband. '"'And the way they delay we will not make it in three days. The very idea!
And that fellow has such a bad face. He thinks he has got us where he can dictate terms, but the Lord is with us. Let's go over and ask some of the villagers if we can get horses!"
Allan agreed.
And yes, they found one friendly woman who said she had horses to hire, but they were out working right now. Would tomorrow morning do? All right. The bargain was made and the Cranes returned to tell the two "strikers" that they could go home; other transportation has been arranged. Were those men furious! It is good sometimes not to be able to understand the language, but black scowls and threatening voices speak a lot. These missionaries had previous experience in China dealing with unreasonable coolies, however, so they just ignored their ugly words and began to arrange their loads. The angry shouts had been heard by the villagers, though, and not a home opened to them for the night. The men doubtless told lies about the strange white people and their motives in coming. So Allan and Evelyn took their things to the riverside and camped
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out there. The thwarted porters must have maligned them to the horse-owner, too, for the next morning the Cranes found the woman had changed her mind—she would not hire her horses and did not wish to talk. Hour after hour they tried— no one would help them go on.
The trials that frown, though not understood But plait me a crown, and work for my good.
In praise I shall tell, when throned in my rest, The things which befell, were always the best.
This trial was "not understood." Try, and pray, as they did, they could not go forward—and unknown to them it saved their lives. For those two evil men had planned in a place further on to murder Evelyn and Allan and steal their things.
But of course our dear missionaries did not know it. Frustration is one of the hardest of missionary trials, and not always are we allowed to see, as in this instance, that it has worked for good.
Satan aims to quench ardour. If we looked at what seems to be mere waste in our lives, he would be successful. We must just remember the wise words of an old C.I.M. missionary who once said, ''Where there is building there must be rubbish."" Rubbish is waste. Part of our work may include wasted footsteps because this is battle. The Cranes found it difficult even to get someone to help them go back to Bandak! But at length an old man hired his buffalo cart to them, and back they walked.
Two days gone, and back in their little room in Bandak!
What does a missionary do then? The weather was so hot it would have been easy to do nothing—wait for a cooler time.
But the Word is our refuge at all times, and it has many quiet things to say about spiritual warfare.
"We are up against the unseen power that controls this dark world, and spiritual agents from the very headquarters of evil. .
. Resist evil in its day of power, and that even when you have fought to a standstill, you may still stand your ground. ...
Take faith as your shield, for it can quench every burning missile the enemy hurls at you!" (Eph. 6:12, 13, 16, Phillips.)
"Resist evil in its day of power." They tried again to get carriers.
Buffalo carts.
Or even elephants, for elephants sometimes went up those mountain roads for logs to drag down.
Eventually they had to go to Raheng, a larger town to the
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south, and hire horses. This time Evelyn could ride. I might point out here that she was not a young bride like Adri, but had experienced some twenty years of missionary life already, though nothing as ''tough" as Thailand. As the first day's climb was drawing to a close, they reached a shady place in the woods. Their muleteer turned around and said,
"This is where those two fellows had planned to kill you!"
Evelyn and Allan looked at one another. They had not told that story to these men! How did he know? But—thank God for the stops He orders.
So all things are working for the Lord's Beloved; Some things might be harmful, if alone they stood
Some might seem to hinder, some might draw us backward; But they work together, and they work for good.
All the thwarted longings, all the stern denials, All the contradictions, hard to understand,
And the Force that holds them, speeds them and retards them, Stops and starts and guides them, is our Father's hand.
ANON.
The last half of the second day the climb was almost perpendicular. Evelyn's knees came near her chin as she climbed, and the perspiration poured from every pore. But they hoped to find Lisu at the top! Wearily they struggled over the rim, and yes, there before them was a large village—the old familiar shape! Bamboo shanties raised on stilts, just as in China. The dear Lisu! How a visit from these two missionaries would have been appreciated in scores of villages now behind the curtain!
How the different homes would have vied with one another for the honour of entertaining them! The nimble brown fingers that would stoke up a quick fire to make a cup of tea, or honey water for the thirsty Ma-pa and Ma-ma. But such memories were weakening. One must press them back into one's heart and firmly clamp them down. The present must be allowed to challenge us!
But the Lisu just stared and turned away. Or went in and banged their doors! No one was interested. No one wanted to 'glimpse heavenly blue'"'—their lives were tied to their pigsties. "Say, that big fat hog didn't eat this morning!
Think there's anything wrong with it? It's the first sign of sickness when a hog won't eat—anybody know what to do
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when a hog refuses food?" If they had been selling hog-cure they would have been almost pulled into shanties! In vain
Allan poured out his beautiful Lisu (they said in China that if you did not see his face you could not tell he was not a Lisu, his speech was so perfect). They could not get any response and no one even offered to let them put down their loads and come in and sit.
Do you think it is a glorious thing to be a missionary?
Did you think you would be wanted?
Eager eyes are watching, longing For the lights along the shore you sang at home on the missionary platforms. Now you are here. Where are the eager ones? I have been a missionary for twenty-seven years, but have never met a heathen tribesman who was looking for salvation (though Aristarchus, a Christian Lisu worker in China, told me he had found one once).
They do not know they are lost, but they do know that they are unhappy most of the time. They are playthings of an evil, capricious power, with no hope after death. But they don't know enough to reach out a hand for heavenly aid.
Their eyes look not up but down—down on the earth and upon their bodily appetites. We have to look upon them as the Lord looked upon Simon. Simon was rash, headstrong, changeable, but Christ said gently, "Thou shalt be called
Peter." A rock-man thou shalt become. And he became it.
These Lisu are all Simons. In themselves they are not lovely.
Simon does not know he is Simon, much less that there is a possibility of his becoming Peter! He has been grubbing along on the earth all his days—how should he know that there is a Heaven within view? In order to love them, the missionary has to look at the Simons and see the Peters. Because it is not easy for a refined man like Mr. Crane to be scorned and treated contemptuously by a dirty ignorant heathen Lisu.
The pioneer must preach by faith! And he need not expect any better treatment than his Master got.
"He came unto his own, and his own received him not."
"The dear Lisu" did not receive the Cranes. Weary, hot, grimy, they at last turned and descended the hill for about
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ten minutes where, they were told, there was a Lahu village.
(The Lisu despise the Lahu.) Here they must switch their language, of course, and begin their message all over again.
But here, praise God, they were invited in!
A little bamboo shanty it was, its walls so thin you could see through the cracks; an open centre fireplace; the only stove is the iron tripod. Hot and tired, they were pressed in on all sides by Lahu tribesmen. As to the physical—but you must forget the physical, it is too overpowering. The tribes do not bathe, and in hot weather a hut-full of them pressing close against you—well, you must forget the physical. As to the spiritual—ah, here is your focus! Evelyn watched these faces as her husband poured forth the Gospel message. God our Creator so loved; that He gave; His only Son, Jesus; who died for our sins; and who rose from that grave; and He promises resurrection to all those who accept Him as Saviour! Black eyes were glued on the face of the speaker, as this never-heard-before story was presented in their own tongue. As it reached the climax of His death, they forgot to chew their betel nut in amazement; and then, as the Lord's victory over death was made clear, face after face gleamed with a light beyond that of the fire's reflection. One old man especially held Evelyn's gaze.
Understanding dawned there, and a radiance broke forth that transformed his grimy features. There was a life after death, and he, so near the grave, might have it! In her heart, the missionary just praised the Lord, and worshipped. There zs none other
Name under heaven given among men, by which we must be saved. That old man's look of wonderful hope, love, and gratitude was worth all the climb and sweat.
That night they had to make their bed on the same bamboo floor as the Lahu. Everyone in full view. Allan rigged up their mosquito net over their sleeping bags, and Evelyn had to change her blouse under its cover. That was all the '"'change"' possible for a woman. But she was the first white woman ever to have been to that village. She had fulfilled her Lord's last command: "Ye shall be witnesses of me . . . to the ends of the earth."' She turned over and slept happily.
Early the next morning, as they sat by the side of the crackling fire, two Lahu men came in. They approached
Allan and said they wanted to believe in this Jesus, Giver
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of eternal life. And as proof that they did, they both cut their demon strings off from their wrists and threw the filthy things into the blaze. All the tribes wear these never-washed strings.
They are tied around wrists or neck, with demon incantations, to keep their lives in! So to cut them is a big step.
Hope rose high in the missionaries' hearts as they said good-bye that morning in order to push on with their message.
This was exploration time—a search party to find out where the tribes were located. A thin scattering of Light, like that rim of translucency, which precedes every breaking of dawn.
Had He not come!
What hope beyond the narrow berth Of bare six feet of mounded earth?
We hear His words with bated breath "IT am the Life; I've conquered death."
For He fas come!
Ava L. WRIGHT After the Cranes, the Allyn Cookes arrived, and from then on reinforcements poured in. Don Rulison had now begun to do a great deal of itineration, the Scheuzgers were also travelling and Allyn Cooke (much the oldest of any of us) did very valuable survey work. In addition to spreading the Light in a thin edge all over the mountains, these fellow workers did some anthropological research also. Sitting around the little tribal fires at night is a splendid time to inquire into their origin, motive for coming to Thailand, and such. Tribal memory is usually only five generations in extent, although we have known a case of nine generations, with an old Chinese document as heirloom to prove it. But in general this is what our workers found.
The Sgaw Karen tribe affirm that they did not migrate in from Burma, but that they came from China originally. If we unite the Sgaw and Pwo Karen as one tribe, they are by far the most numerous. The population of each tribe is still guesswork, and to print a number is to have it challenged, so I will not try. But everyone knows the Karen are the most numerous.
Many of the Miao say they came from Indo-China one hundred years ago, but that migration is still continuing, as our workers in Summit Camps report. The fighting in IndoChina has brought many just these last three years. Other
EXPLORATION
Miao have declared that they came from Kweichow province, China, fifty years ago.
The Lisu tribe have always inhabited the banks of the Salween River, and as the Salween borders Thailand at one point, that would explain their presence. But in a Lisu village,
I myself met one so-called Lisu who told me proudly that he was Tali Min-chia—five generations back. The Min tribe inhabit the Tali plain, as we ourselves know, having lived among them in 1930.
Many of the Lahu tribe have come over the mountains from Burma just since the C.I.M. pulled out of China. War again was the reason; peaceful Thailand luring them over the borders.
The Yao tribe said they had come from Indo-China, although they speak and read Chinese. The unrest due to war again was a reason given.
And so, under the providence of God, the disturbance wrought by the communists thrust the missionaries out, but also sent the tribes pouring over the boundaries and all landed in the lap of North Thailand, more or less at the same time!
There is another race called the Shan, closely related to the Thai and the Lao, who have come over from Burma in large numbers. To these people, along with the Akha who live on the Burma-Thailand borders, the O.M.F. is pledged in evang-lization.
(See Progress Report on the Shan, p. 247.) 'he tribes are so degraded morally that it is most inadvisable for a woman to go unaccompanied by her husband until that particular village has been visited often enough by men missionaries that they comprehend that the Gospel is holy. Allan Crane said that the filthy things said to him by Lisu heathen were worse than he ever heard in China.
In another part of the mountains where Ernie Heimbach and Don Rulison went, the second day their host sent word to the other villagers: '"'Come and see these white men!
They have been in my house twenty-four hours and have not got drunk nor touched our women. Come and see!" Truly their darkness does not bear contemplation, except as we gaze at Him who is Light.
Much had already been done when John and I arrived
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at Base Camp on October 6, 1952. Four Advance Camps had been established and were calling for the superintendent to visit and advise. Orville and Hazel kindly continued to run
Base Camp so as to free us for these visits and also give time for any language study that was possible. I might say here that neither John nor I "got" Thai. I got enough to lead Thai family prayers but not enough for conversation, which, as you know, hops all over the place, as far as vocabulary goes.
It might be of interest to hear of our first trip in search of the Lisu. Otto and Adri Scheuzger had been doing extensive travelling in the southern area, using Thai as a medium, but they wrote asking if we would go with them for a short trip to find the Lisu. We brought along Nurse Frances Bailey and Edna McLaren. These two were still Thai language students at Base Camp, but had been plodding along with their noses in primers so long that John thought a break would be beneficial—and incidentally they would gain some experience of mountaineering methods under senior workers.
We had to go to Advance Camp first, of course. There the Scheuzgers had engaged four pack horses and along with them went two Thai muleteers. The first day's hike was spent in getting us across the plains to the base of the hills.
Afternoon brought us to a Thai village where we cooked our meals on three stones beside a stream and slept on the teak floor of a kind villager's house. The second day took us through high, dark forests, tangled jungle, and across a rushing mountain torrent. A hurricane had been blowing through there just a few days before us and the road was almost obliterated in spots by torn-up trees, broken branches and dead leaves.
Climbing, the path became narrower; the lefthand side straight up the mountain; and the righthand side dropping away from the path straight down. Turning a rocky curve, we saw only three of our horses and—an empty pack!
"Where's the horse?" cried Frances, and even then we heard the dull thud-thud of'a heavy body crashing through the underbrush below.
"Oh, John," I cried, "is it the horse that is falling?" He _ turned and nodded affirmation in grim silence, for the dull thud-thud continued.
"O Lord, keep it from being killed or breaking any bones,"
EXPLORATION
we prayed, and He answered. The hillside was covered with long juicy grass, so the animal just rolled over and over to about fifty feet down. Otto and one of the horseboys precariously climbed down after it, and soon we saw them, far below us, pull the pony to its feet, where it stood, shaky but whole! The problem then was to get it back up to the trail.
While they were battling with that, we women pulled tender bamboo leaves for the other animals to eat.
For five or six difficult hours that day we climbed—difficult because of detours necessitated when the path was blocked by fallen trees and debris. Halfway to the villages the horseboys announced that we must camp out for the night— they would drive the horses no further that day. The prospect was not very pleasant. High trees met overhead, so we were in a damp gloom below them. The wood was wet and, of course, the fire smoked. We spread our sleeping bags on the moist earth, rigged up our mosquito nets to bushes and prepared to pass the hours until morning. Thailand jungles harbour many dangerous animals and reptiles, so the men tried to keep the fire going all night. I am very timid about snakes and would never have the courage to kill one, so I had frequently wondered what I would do when asked to walk through jungles in Thailand. Often one has to go alone into raw thick jungle, seeking firewood and for other reasons, and although I often heard rustlings on every side, I did not encounter any cobras or scorpions. Other of our missionaries have had adventures with them, but a discarded snakeskin across the end of my bed one day was all I ever experienced personally.
The next day's climb was back and forth over a rushing mountain torrent. This was most annoying, as the sharp rocks on the bottom were too much for bare feet, and yet if you walked through in your shoes, your wet feet become so tender that the skin peels and blisters. Coming back we counted those crossings and we crossed twenty times in thirty minutes! You cannot plunge straight up the bank, if there is no path cut, for the jungle is too tangled and thick; you have to follow the path, no matter how labyrinthine it is!
The horses began to slip and fall again and finally we gathered for prayer. We were going up to search for lost souls
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—in the case of four of us, for the first time in Thailand—and we realized that "spiritual agents from the very headquarters of evil'? were battling to hold us back. The Devil is no creature of the imagination, and those who doubt it are simply victims of his own skill in deception. But praise God, Christ was manifested to destroy the works of the Devil, and He is still able to allow him seemingly to defeat a missionary, and then turn it into overwhelming victory—''Take spoils from the enemy."
We need not dread him, but we are fools if we are not alert to his methods! So in prayer we covered each member of the party with the precious blood, and then laboured on.
Personally I was very eager to try out my Lisu on the Thailand part of the tribe, and see if they understood me!
Occasionally we had been meeting people on the trail, the simple black trousers and coat might equally indicate either a tribesman or a Thai trader. The conventional mountain greeting is, ""Where are you going?" The first day they answered only when I spoke in Thai. The second day, when I asked the question in Lisu, a trader stopped and stared at me, then went on, laconically calling back the answer in Thai!
So, though he would not speak it, he had understood my Lisu! We must be getting nearer.
The third day about noon we came upon fields with the grain newly harvested. And farther along, up an ascending trail, we beheld a man working in one of those fields dressed in the simple black pants and jacket of any tribe. I could not resist calling out to him in Lisu:
"What are you doing ?"'
"Working here," came the nonchalant answer in clear Lisu. But when he saw it was a white woman who had used that tongue, he stopped his work and gazed at us.
"Ts the Lisu village far from here?" I asked.
Yes, it is way over there'—pointing with his chin over his left shoulder.
"Are you a Lisu?'' asked John.
"No, I'm a Lahu," he answered. "Our Lahu village is over the hill."
A Lahu who spoke Lisu! Trade Lisu, probably. Trails were criss-crossing now and we must follow the horses closely
EXPLORATION
or we might take the wrong path and get lost. But the thought came to me that he might never have another opportunity in his lifetime to hear the Gospel, so I stopped to say: '"'We are messengers of God, the Creator of Heaven and earth. He loves you and wants you to know that His only begotten Son,
Jesus, has died for your sins; and if you believe on Him, you need not go to Hell but you will go to a happy place to live forever."' Then I wondered if his Lisu was extensive enough to understand the word for God.
"Do you know Wu-sa?"' I asked.
He stood there on the trail, looking thoughtfully off over the mountaintops. Obviously no one had ever turned his thoughts toward heavenly matters before, and he was solemnized. Then turning to look wistfully at me he said, "' There has never been anyone to teach me about Him."
Oh, what a rebuke to the luxury-loving church at home!
"For some have not the knowledge of God: I speak this to your shame"' (I Cor. 15:34). How painful it is to the missionary to have to leave a human soul like this! There must be a widespread sowing of the message, and (as Dr. Oswald
Smith says) every man has the right to hear it once, before another hears it twice. But it tears the heart to have to press on. The rest of the party were now out of sight so I had to go, but first I tried to tell a little more. I spoke of God's judgment on sin and urged that he make a decision soon. ""We are going to preach in your village tonight. Come and listen,"
I said, before passing over the hilltop to catch up with the rest of the party.
But I never did see that Lahu man again. We divided into two groups that night. Maybe he went to hear the Scheuzgers play Gospel records on their phonograph. He never came to our house, and in the visitation I did not see him. But two little gleams of light were left in that heathen-dark soul:
'"Wu-sa loves me," and, "Some day Wu-sa is going to judge sin."
Are the heathen ever saved by hearing the Gospel just once? Certainly not many. And yet in China, Lu-seng said that he was saved the very first time he heard.
And Don Rulison had told the following:
About twelve years ago a Thai man, not a Christian, brought a copy of some Scripture to Hui Lyang and read it to the
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people. There are some Miao, including Grandmother Sing Shua, who say that they have wanted to be Christians since that first hearing of the Word of God.
And again from another letter:
On our return trip to Chiengmai, we stayed for two nights in the White Miao village of.
.. The Lord remarkably directed me to one family where there were hungry hearts. This family, belonging to the Wang clan, professed to believe in Jesus but they had not yet destroyed their demon paraphernalia. I well remember the dear little old mother saying, "I don't want to be a demon slave any longer. I believe in Jesus!" A few weeks later two young men from the same village and the same Wang clan (probably a different family) came to our Mission Home in Chiengmai and asked Mrs. Kuhn for a Bible to read. One of them helped in the moving of our Mission Home in Chiengmai, in pay for which he was given a Thai New Testament which he was able to read.
So the Word was sown over the mountains of North Thailand, and the black night began to yield to that thin rim of translucency. Hardly enough knowledge to be saved by.
Certainly not enough to apprehend the ways of holiness and the comforts of communion with the beloved Lord. Not enough to throw off the shackles of fear and bondage to evil spirits. Insufficient to break them from the awful opium traffic and personal addiction. But still enough to make the thoughtful ones aware that something new is dawning! To scatter a Name lightly as a wind-blown feather from mountain range to mountain range. To make the Devil worried enough that he has picked up that lovely Name and tried to incorporate it into worship of himself—but I am getting ahead of my story.
Exploration is not finished. In the winter months there is yet much scattering of the Light necessary. This from Allyn
Cooke's circular letter dated February, 1953:
Eric Cox, Brother Six and I, together with three Yao carriers were on our way to visit the Yao of Elephant Mountain district.
. When we left, the Yao said, 'You can't find the way. You must have a guide, and besides, there are wild elephants and tigers in the jungle along the trial."
EXPLORATION
"Will someone go with us to show the way?"
"We're sorry, but we are extremely busy now and no one has time to go. But don't think of going without a guide."
"If we met wild elephants, what help would a guide be?
We'll pray to God to show us the way and keep us from meeting elephants."
"Well, if you will go, all right, but we are sorry for you.
There is a Lahu village on the way. They will guide you if you pay them wages."
We had reached the Lahu village and had been received like one of the family because we spoke the language.
"Come right in. You are just like our own brother," said the Lahu young man, reaching out and shaking my hand warmly.
I had never been taken in and received so warmly except in a Christian village. We went into the house, got out the phonograph, and played a Gospel recording in Lahu. . . . But we felt we must press on and not spend the night there. ""We are going to Elephant Mountain. Will someone show us the road?
We'll pay wages,"' we said.
"'No, we are too busy in the fields now. If we had time v+ would not want wages. But do not try to go without a guide.
There is a Lao down in the fields. Maybe he will go."
We again said, '""We'll pray to God and He will show vs the way." Brother Six was quite pleased to put the Lord to the test and strike out without a guide, so we made careful inquiry and started out. The people going to their fields went with us until they came to a fork in the road. They turned to the left and told us to go to the right and watch for blaze marks on the trees.
"But we're afraid you'll get lost or meet the wild elephants," they said. '"You go down the ridge here until you come to the place where it starts up again and wait there. We'll ask the Lao to meet you there if he is willing to go."
Soon we reached the place mentioned and sat down to wait, but the time was passing and the Lao did not appear. Finally
Brother Six said, "'Let's go. God will take care of us. We do not need a guide," and off we went. For hours we trekked through dense jungle, up and down, often having to stop to get under the bamboo poles which had fallen across the trail—if it could be called a trail. After a while we came to fresh elephant tracks. The bamboo was broken down and twisted into all kinds of fantastic shapes as the elephants had broken them down to feed on the tender leaves at the tips. In one place we came to
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a huge pond-like bog wallow and there the trail ended. We had got off the trail and followed the elephant track which ended at their bathing pool, but on retracing our steps for about five minutes we found the blazed trail again and resumed our journey. Brother Six pointed out places where tigers had slept, but nothing worse happened to us than to get bitten by leeches.
And finally we emerged at the ferry which crossed the river, and we were in a Yao hut near the river by their fields. Our reception by the Yao was friendly and we feel that with more teaching there will be a harvest. But they are so inaccessible!
Only young strong men ought to go into such a country.
At another time a Lahu carrier said to Mr. Cooke, '""There are many Lahu villages near here. If you should travel for a month and spend each night in a different Lahu village you would not have visited all the Lahu in a month!" No wonder the task appals, at times.
Don Rulison, travelling for months on end, alone except for native helpers, became sick. He was seriously ill far from Base
Camp, and when he did recover he found his strength slow in returning. Lying there on his sleeping bag on the bamboo floor, with the beautiful mountains on every hand, and the little tribal villages tucked here and there all over them, his soul was moved within him at the ripened harvest and the few gleaners! When he was able, he wrote to his prayer partners:
Now I am well again and, although not as physically strong as before, I am thankful for His enablement to continue in this needy harvest field. The doors are open now, the needs are so great and urgent, especially _for men. We men are so few out here, even for pioneer work in mountain tribes; there are some doors where it seems God requires men to go first. Many ladies offer their lives for this sacrificial service. ''Where are the men?"
As for myself I simply cannot understand it. It seems to me to be such a clear path of obedience to our Lord's commission. And what other passion can rival in a young man's heart that consuming desire to please his Lord Jesus that He may see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied? Can it be that Christ enlists young men for His service, but they don't respond, or get sidetracked? Don't let this unhappy state be yours, dear fellow soldiers of Christ. Don't worry; just obey and follow. He takes all responsibility for the aftermath of obedience and He supplies every need of those who follow in His train.
EXPLORATION
"The drumbeats of His Army are the heartbeats of our love."
Have you not felt the heartbeats ?
Do you not hear the drumbeats calling for young men, who will offer their strong young bodies and courageous souls to Christ?
Is the drumbeat not calling for you to lend your heartthrobs with ours in intercessory prayer for these lost tribes in their century-old darkness ?
Is the drumbeat not calling parents to give up their children to come and help? Sweethearts to wait a bit for marriage in order that the man be single for this pioneer work?
There's a hush of expectation, and a quiet in the air; And the breath of God is moving in the fervent breath of prayer;
For the suffering, dying Jesus is the Christ upon the throne, And the travail of our spirits is the travail of His own.
AT c